


Family

by NotManTheLessButNatureMore



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 06:45:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18383108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotManTheLessButNatureMore/pseuds/NotManTheLessButNatureMore
Summary: Cormoran does not suit fatherhood.





	Family

Cormoran does not suit fatherhood. 

It is a fact that caused arguments, doubts, disappointment and great unhappiness between the two of them during the weeks and months when Robin’s due date became a daunting time bomb waiting in the depths of winter for both of them. 

A year into their relationship they had had one conversation about children. Robin, not quite sure of her own desires, had broached the subject and Cormoran had stated clearly he didn’t want any. The conversation left a dark cloud hanging over their weekend, both contemplating whether this would be the wrecking ball that would arrive between them in months or in years. Then work and other distractions buried the issue until one night Cormoran returned from late night surveillance to find Robin tearfully at the kitchen table. She took a deep breath and watched as his eyes darkened and his face dropped when she uttered the two words that settled like a rising tide between them for the next eight months. 

They had fought and debated and shouted and created false peace treaties. Cormoran had moved in with Ilsa and Nick for a month halfway through and Robin had gone home to Masham near the end, leaving him in London wondering what would happen if she didn’t return.

Robin did return and a night of talking led to a reconciliation which was abruptly followed by Robin going into labour, as if their little one was waiting for them to figure it all out. Now when she looks back it feels like the longest day of her life has somehow squashed itself into a tiny highlights reel. The nervous lump that stayed buried in her chest until it was all over, her mother holding back tears on the phone, walking the corridor of the labour ward and finding Cormoran on the phone to Nick frantically scribbling lines in his small black notepad. Then flashes of pain mix with fear as a midwife’s voice coaches her through it and suddenly everything comes into focus when Cormoran’s rough hand grabs hers and holds tight. A wet and screaming bundle appears on her chest, a little leg kicking at her breast and a hand spread wide making a grab for the air.

The tears that came with seeing her son for the first time intensified when Robin looked up to find Cormoran, who had been hovering awkwardly in the corner of the room the whole time, standing beside her. His mouth opening and closing, she watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, and then he reached a hand out and brushed fingers lightly across the baby’s head, barely making contact. His face was soft and pale when he looked at her and the kiss he planted on her forehead lasted until the midwife interrupted them, pressing a blanket across the baby held to Robin’s chest.

Now when Robin thinks of family she doesn’t think of Masham. She thinks of rare Sunday morning lie ins being ruined by a giggling intrusion. She thinks of Cormoran asleep on their bed in the middle of the day with a newborn nuzzled in the crook of his arm. She thinks of a tiny hand in hers, one that squeezes her fingers when they walk through the bowels of the underground and pulls on her wrist when the swing in the park is vacant. She thinks of blowing raspberries on her son’s belly and seeing Cormoran’s smile as they listen to their son’s giggles. She thinks of all the ladybugs, flowers and weeds she’s been gifted and the long letter Cormoran wrote in her first Mother’s Day card from their son.

Their son! The phrase still brings a smile to her face. Their son, a perfect mix of his parents, with the green eyes, dark hair and height of his father and the nose, mouth and kindness of his mother. He says hello to every cat and dog he passes. He wears Arsenal pyjamas to bed but prefers the colours of the Tottenham teddy his uncle Nick gave him. Some nights he pretends to be asleep so either Robin or Cormoran will carry him to bed where he will then spring awake and request an extra long bedtime story. He hides things around the flat, their phones, Robin’s watch, Cormoran’s shirts, and follows them around giggling as they move further away from his hiding spot and growing quiet as they get closer. 

He prefers Robin when he falls down, Cormoran when he has nightmares and stretches his arms as far wide as they’ll go to hug them both together when he’s happy. His new favourite game is running away with Cormoran’s prosthetic leg in the mornings, squealing with mischief as Robin chases him with a stern look and Cormoran hops from bed to doorway watching them. When asked, his best friends are Ossie and Ricky, Jack and Basil and recently, due to the gift of a magic set, uncle Shanker. He is the sweetest and most innocent little person Robin has ever met and she spends quiet nights in bed at least once a week telling Cormoran how much she hopes he stays that way.

In every way Cormoran does not suit fatherhood. It’s something that occurred to Robin the one and only time that Cormoran wore a baby sling, his bulk in its woollen coat contrasting oddly with the little legs kicking against his stomach and the hand grasping his shirt. It’s a joke shared by Robin’s family and his friends, rebuked only by Lucy and Robin, but one that sits uneasy with Cormoran. He struggles with disciplining his son, he struggled with feeding and burping him and holding him in the early weeks, he forgets himself and curses in front of him, he struggles physically with playing with him and he hates how hard some days are, when just feeding him dinner is enough to make Cormoran want to disappear to a pub. But Robin knows with every fibre of her being that Cormoran wouldn’t change the decision he made to go on this journey with her, to be a father. Their love for each other feels deeper than it ever was, the shared love of their son, that somehow grows more each day, seems to equally affect their love for each other.

They are a strange double act that makes Robin’s heart fill with electricity daily. Their son is tall enough now for Cormoran’s hand to ruffle his hair as they walk, reminding Robin of the day he was born. They don’t hold hands as they walk, the awkward stoop Cormoran would need to make being too much for his leg, but their little one keeps a tight hold on his father’s trouser leg, shuffling along with him and never running away, at least not when Robin isn’t there to run after him. She often finds Cormoran asleep in the chair by their little boy’s bed, a book spread open on his chest and a small, soft hand stretched out to rest on his knee. His little hands also like to comb through her hair when he crawls into their bed in the mornings and when Cormoran’s leg is hurting he’ll sit beside him and gently pat his knee as he surrounds them with a protective circle of toys. He plays hide and seek all the time and has more than once curled himself up and thrown Cormoran’s coat on top, shocked every time when his wriggling ball is discovered.

They haven’t discussed whether they’ll have another child, neither has broached the topic, but Robin knows that if it stays just the three of them their little family will be no less complete. 

“Mummy, mummy, mummy!” An excited voice calls from the garden. They’re in Cornwall staying with Ilsa, Nick and Basil in a holiday home a few miles from Joan and Ted. 

Robin looks out into the garden to see Cormoran, a sodden cigarette in his hand, being soaked by a hose held proudly by his son. Ilsa is running towards the house laughing and Nick and Basil make a run for cover as the hose is turned on them, giving Cormoran a chance to throw a withering glance Robin’s way before he too makes his escape, a smile sneaking its way onto his face she sees. 

“Excuse me young man!” Robin shouts as she steps into the garden. 

He pauses, his t-shirt and shorts just as soaked as his father’s, and looks back at her.

“Hello mummy.” He says with a tentatively smile, one she recognised as his ‘am I in trouble?’ smile.

“Hello.” Robin replies.

There’s a standoff and then both smile as Robin makes a dash for Cormoran and hides behind him.

“Oi!” Is all he manages to say before the hose is once again turned on him and a laughing Robin pulls him this way and that from behind, shielding herself from the hose and hearing her son’s giggles get louder and more manic.

Robin catches the eye of Ilsa, who is watching the three of them from the back door of the house and smiling. This is another moment Robin will think of when she thinks of family.

**Author's Note:**

> So my brain apparently wanted to tackle Cormoran and Robin having kids though I have four other stories half written. I feel like Robin would end up wanting kids, not any time soon but at some point, and this is my way of tackling the subject, as we know Cormoran doesn’t want any. I don’t think fatherhood would come easy to him and is not something he’d willingly agree to (although things can always change in future books) so this was my take on it. I hope you enjoyed it! :)


End file.
